Lost in the Highlands, Volume 3, page 31
CHAPTER 29
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past
“Och, ye are no that sweet. Ye will no melt,” Morag was saying as she stirred another ingredient into the pot hanging over the fire.
Jillian crossed her arms defiantly, letting Morag know she was not budging on the subject. “And I told you that I would go back when the rain let up!”
“Och.” Morag shook her head and slammed the wooden spoon on the edge of the pot so hard a splinter of the handle shot off and hit the opposite wall. “Now look what ye made me go and do.”
“Me!” Jillian screeched, aghast. “You did that yourself and you know it. Stop blaming everything on me.”
“I will blame things on ye if I want to.”
“And I will call you out on them, if I want to.”
Morag and Jillian were at an impasse.
Morag wanted Jillian to return to Greystone, and Jillian wanted nothing more than to wait out the storm and return when the weather was not so formidable.
In the end, Jillian won.
But Morag was not happy. Not one bit.
CHAPTER 30
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past
No matter how hard Clarion tried, he couldn’t seem to get the lass from his dreams out of his mind. What made matters even worse, he knew that in her own mind she was making love to his brother in her dreams and not to him, which did not sit well with him, at all.
But as it stood, there wasn’t much he could do about it. Gaining momentum as he went, he made his way down another steep hill and then ran up the next. When he reached the top, he stopped.
The crystalline waters of the Loch sprawled out in front of him as far as the eye could see and a pang of melancholy washed over him from the sight.
Although, this was his home, he didn’t feel part of it like he once had. Now, he felt like an outsider, a wandering spirit, roaming the Earth, trying to find the place where he fit in. Unfortunately, he didn’t think there was any place for him, especially not here.
He wished that he could just leave and go somewhere else. But deep down he knew that running away would only prolong the inevitable, because someday, someway, the very thing he was running from would eventually catch up with him.
Sighing, he lifted his bag at his feet off the ground and slowly made his way down to the loch below.
CHAPTER 31
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past
Once the torrential rain stopped, Morag scuttled over to the door and opened it up. “Now out with ye,” she said, making sweeping hand motions, indicating for Jillian to move.
Jillian rolled her eyes. “Fine. But if it starts raining again, I’m coming back.” She stood from the chair and gathered her cloak around her shoulders. Dragging her feet, she made her way to the door.
Morag snorted as she passed. “Ye will no melt ye know.”
“I know but I do not like the rain.”
“I am sure the rain does no like ye either!”
Jillian turned for a rebuttal but was too late. Morag had already slammed the door shut in her face.
“Old bat,” she grumbled, stepping down off the stair. Once she was out from under the porch, she looked up at the sky. Grey fat-bellied clouds pressed down from above and it looked like it was about to open up at any minute and rain once again. Irritated with her plight, she kicked a stone across the flat ground and was rewarded with a sharp pain shooting through her toes.
“Ow,” she whined, limping now, as she made her way back towards Greystone.
♦
Peering outside the window, Morag watched until Jillian disappeared from sight. Once she was sure she was gone, Morag turned back around and shuffled over to the cauldron. Her foot ached too, but the pain, unlike Jillian’s, was not from kicking a stone, or anything else for that matter. No, this pain was from the residual effects of her last spell that was now wearing off. Other parts of her body hurt too, but she mostly ignored it because she knew it would get much worse before it got better—if it got better, she thought grimly.
CHAPTER 32
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past
Back at the Loch, Clarion was preparing a meal, which consisted of a small rabbit he had snared and was now turning it on a spit over a fire. The juices ran down onto the hot coals, making a billow of smoke waft upward.
Frankly he was surprised he had even been able to catch the rabbit. Animals, especially small ones, were on the slim side around the loch.
Of course, he could have set a line for fish, but he wasn’t planning on being here that long. And now that he had the rabbit, he didn’t see much sense in doing anything else.
The rain had at least let up long enough for him to get a fire going and the wind had died down as well, but now, it was almost too still. Too quiet. The water wasn’t even moving in loch—it was smooth as glass.
An eerie sense of foreboding washed over him.
Having lived in the highlands for most of his life, he knew that wasn’t a good sign. Something was afoot. Something holy unnatural.
He heard a twig snap and was immediately on guard.
The rabbit forgotten for the moment, he released the spit and dug into his bag for one of his charms, but he wasn’t fast enough.
Something came out of the darkness and hit him with such force he fell backward onto the rocks. Before he could gain his feet underneath, another blow slammed into the side of his head.
As his blood pooled onto the rocks, he envisioned the sweet lass from his dreams and then Clarion de Grey, the firstborn of Greystone, saw no more.
PART FIVE
CHAPTER 33
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past
Kicked awake, Clarion looked blurry eyed up at four strapping Highlanders standing in a semi-circle above him.
“State yer business Highlander or die.” A shiny sword was brandished and pointed closely to his throat.
Out of habit, he reached for his dagger, but his hand came up empty.
“Are ye looking fer this?” Alec held the dagger aloft.
Clarion, pushed his hand on his chin and cracked his neck and then repeated the action on the other side. After he was finished, he casually leaned back on his elbows and looked at the largest Highlander. He had burnished red hair and long ringlets of curls that twisted down his back. If not for the sheer size of the man, Clarion would have probably thought he was a lass. “Aye. I was, but now you’ve let me know where it is. Are ye going ta give it back ta me, or will I have ta take it from ye?”
Muir and Callum both snorted because Alec was skilled in not only sword play but also hand to hand combat. He even defeated Morgan, God rest his soul, on more than one occasion.
Graham, on the other hand, didn’t make any response at all. He was too busy examining the strange contents in the bag at his feet. Pulling out a jagged piece of glass, he looked at it inquisitively, turning it this way and that. However, he lost interest rather quickly because it didn’t look like anything worth keeping.
Dropping the glass back down inside the bag, he searched for something that could tell him more about the man they found by the loch. If he wasn’t trespassing on Greystone land, they would have let him be. But with so many of Broderick’s traitors floating around these days, they didn’t want to take that chance.
Clarion’s body tensed as he watched the second largest Highlander rifle through his things. He had blonde hair and large hands that clumsily fumbled with his gazing glass. When he dropped it back in his bag as if it were of no consequence, Clarion’s hands itched, wanting nothing more than to ring his thick neck.
“Why do ye no tell us what ye are trespassing on Greystone land?”
Clarion looked unfazed by his question, giving nothing away. “Was I?” he asked, playing dumb. “I was only traveling through on my way home.”
Alec crossed his beefy arms across his chest. “Where might that be?”
“On the other side of the loch.”
“That does no tell us much,” Callum interjected.
“Well, I am sure ye do no know where it is so why waste my breath explaining it ta ye?”
“Well,” said Graham, looking up from the contents of the bag he was examining for the first time. “If ye do not, we will have ta assume yer course across this land is no accident and we will have ta kill ye.”
“I do no wish ta fight ye. So, if ye would be so kind as ta give me back my things, I will be on my way,” Clarion stated calmly.
“It would be a fight ye would lose,” Callum boasted. “It is four ta one.”
“Aye, but I will be the one fighting fer my life and when all is said and done, I will be the one left standing, not ye,” Clarion rebutted.
Muir laughed. “Not likely.”
“We will see.”
“Cease both of ye. We are no fighting this man, but ye…” Alec paused in midsentence and looked directly at the man on the ground, noticing straight away that although he may be just one man, he did not know what he true intentions were. “We will be taking ye with us back ta Greystone.”
Clarion thought about that for a minute. He was on his way there anyway, so whether he went with them or alone, his destination would still be the same. “Why?” he asked finally for the simple fact that he did not want to seem eager to go with them.
“That is no yer concern,” Callum added, squaring his shoulders back, trying to look formidable, although this did not exactly have the effect he might hope since he was the smallest of them all and was still recuperating from his wounds.
Clarion gave the Highlander speaking a doubtful look, but held his tongue. Now was not the time to get into fist a cuffs with a boy who still had not yet fully become a man. Besides, he had no wish to hurt the lad, but rather would prefer using them to get to the castle. Due to Morag’s dark magic he had not been able to accomplish this feat yet, but with them, he may.
This line of questioning continued for quite some time, but as the night drew to a close and the first signs of the early morning sun began to lighten the night sky, the four Highlanders decided it was best to be on their way in the event the man was lying about being alone.
Taking a rope from one of his saddle bags, Alec handed it off to Muir. “Tie his hands.”
Muir obliged and with little care, he tied the Highlander’s hands in front of him, leaving enough rope to pull him along behind their horses.
“Mount up,” Graham said to the others. He tied the Highlander’s bag to his saddle and swung up on his horses back. Gathering the reins in his hands, he dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and set it off in a slow gallop toward Greystone.
Muir helped Callum and handed him the reins. “Can ye manage on yer own?”
Callum winced when he moved, but bit back the pain and said, “O’ course I can manage.”
“Are ye sure?” Muir asked again.
“Aye, I am sure, but Muir,” Callum said, almost on a whisper.
Muir looked up at him.
Callum inclined his head to the man a few feet away. “Do ye no think he reminds ye of our laird?”
Muir looked back over his shoulder. “Aye, he does have a resemblance ta him.”
“I wonder why that is?” Callum asked, frowning.
“I do no have an answer for ye.” Giving the man behind him one last curious look, Muir turned back around. “Hold on,” he told Callum and slapped the rump of his horse, which sent them both off in an unsteady trot after Graham.
Alec mounted as well, and after Muir gave the rope to him, he too mounted his own horse.
At a much slower pace, Alec travelled with the Highlander behind his horse and Muir was last, trailing behind to keep an eye not only on their prisoner, but also the surrounding area in the event that they were being followed.
CHAPTER 34
LOCH MORAR, SCOTLAND
The Past
The following morning, a knock sounded at the front of the castle. Halfway down the stairs, Paige froze in mid-step. She didn’t know whether to answer it, or run back up the way she had just come.
Then her good sense kicked in and she decided that if it was someone coming to do something foul to her or Gavin, they most certainly would not be knocking.
Hastening her step, she made her way to the front door. “Who is there?”
“Och, lass, it’s raining out here.”
A wave of profound relief poured over her. Paige unbolted the door, ripped it open and flung herself into the arms of the four strapping Highlanders she had come to love in such a short time.
Callum was the one to take the brunt of her body against his own and stumbled backward by the force.
Luckily, Muir was behind, and kept them both in upright positions.
“Och lass, are ye going ta let us in?” Alec grumbled, swiping rain off his face so he could see.
Paige finally, albeit, reluctantly, loosened her hold on Callum. “Of course. Sorry,” she said, moving back into the hall so they could come inside.
Once everyone was in the hall, Paige shut the door and brought the bolt back home. “I didn’t think you were coming back,” she rushed to say, hugging each one in turn.
Callum, Muir, Alec and Graham gave her curious looks as they took in her dishevelled appearance.
There were dark circles under her eyes and her clothes looked rather dirty, more so, then their own were, which was strange to them considering they were the ones out in the elements for days on end.
“Och, lass,” Muir said. “What happened ta ye?”
“Oh, I…uh, have been busy.” Embarrassed by her appearance, Paige smoothed her hand over her messy hair but she could tell by the looks that they were giving her that it did not really help.
“Doing what? Rolling in the mud?” Callum asked taking in my mud splattered gown.
Muir elbowed him. “Ye do no look that bad.”
She looked down at her gown, which had several spots of mud on the front from Elvis jumping on her earlier.
“Where is our laird?” Alec asked.
“He’s upstairs,” she said absently, while trying to brush the dried bits of dirt off her gown.
“Is he no better, then?” Graham asked.
I looked up. “He is awake.”
“Och, so he is better?”
“I didn’t say that,” she muttered under her breath.
“Eh, I can no hear ye,” Alec said, holding his hand to his ear.
Paige let out a lengthy sigh. “He is fine. He just doesn’t remember too much from what happened before.”
“Does he remember who we are?” This time it was Callum who spoke.
“Oh, he remembers just fine who you all are,” she said. “He just doesn’t remember me very well.”
“He does no remember ye?” Muir asked, his brows creasing.
“Well…he does, a bit, but not how he felt about me.”
“Och, sorry ta hear that, lass,’ Graham said.
Paige took another breath. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”
The men gave each other looks, none looking too convinced by her lie. “Sit down and rest a bit while I get you all some ale.”
Before they could answer, Paige turned and fled the room.
♦
The straw poked Clarion and made his legs itch. He would have scratched them, if the Highlanders did not tie his hands up and hook them to the wall of the stable.
Getting here was not a pleasant journey but at least he had finally made it to his destination. Tired of standing, he sat down on the floor and leaned back against the wall, thankful they had given the rope enough slack to do so. The horses made noises, swinging their tales to keep the flies at bay while munching down straw that was piled in the stalls on the floor.
The rain had started again halfway here, and Clarion was once again drenched to the bone. But at least he had some kind of shelter from the storm even though it stunk like horse manure.
Closing his eyes, he tried to figure out his next move and wondered briefly if the lass, the one he had seen in his dreams was really residing within the castle walls, and if she was, would she remember him? And would he remember her? He thought he might, but there was no telling what would happen until he saw her in person.
Thoughts of the lass from his dreams brought an uncomfortable rigidness to his loins. Closing his eyes, he let his mind take him to where he was won’t to go of late…right back into her arms.
♦
Once Paige got the ale and several cups, she headed back out into the main hall. All the men were chattering away before she entered the room, but once she stepped inside, they suddenly went silent.
Trying to be upbeat, she carried the ale over and set it on the table. Each of the men took a cup and she filled each of them.
When she sat down, Paige grabbed a cup for herself and filled it to the brim. Taking a sip of her ale, she made a face and set the cup back down on the table.
Alec turned his attention to the lass. “Does he remember what happened to Morgan and the others?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“How did he take the news, lass?” Graham asked.
“I’m not sure.”
Callum was the one to pipe in this time. “How can ye no know that?”
Muir kicked him under the table.
“Och, Muir, it was jes a question,” Callum grumbled.
“Let the lass have her say and then ye can ask her questions.”
Callum gave her a contrite look. “Sorry, lass.”
“No. It’s not your fault. It’s just a long story and….”
“We have time, lass,” Alec said gently.
“Well, you see…” Paige began, and then filled them in on all that transpired since they had left.
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